


learning to look at someone

by spocklee



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, past mentions of hisana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4371920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spocklee/pseuds/spocklee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>renji and byakuya spend time together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	learning to look at someone

**Author's Note:**

> i've read bleach since middle school but only realized i was interested in this ship last month. there's a quick ref to renji being a trans dude. (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

The dreams he’d had of rescuing Rukia fell flat after Ichigo, after Byakuya, after Aizen. Like a trio they surrounded his sleep and pulled away all the heroic and childish fantasies of being strong enough to get what he wanted, and like a trio, Byakuya always led them. The masked doppelgangers of Ichigo and Aizen in his mind would fall back into shadow on either side and Byakuya would walk forward with his deliberately visible steps and that face like a sullen statue.

 

He’d wake up calmly. It was not that he was afraid; Aizen was a clinically looming threat, Ichigo was a friend, and Byakuya had softened just noticeably, like an immense glacier that begun to sweat clear water. It was not fear, but the feeling that he had aged the last twenty years in one day. He felt resigned, then resentful, then furious; then he sighed, and shrugged like an old man and decided if he couldn’t sleep, he would get up early and he would train.

 

-

 

Byakuya had loved Rukia before out of a sense of duty he held like a hot coal; his guilt would not let him think on it, his dread would not let him look at her when he requested she’d see him. After the failed execution, he’d held the coal in relief. He let it burn his hands, and was grateful that she lived and bewildered that she would cry over his health and glow at his concern. She called him brother but he thought, in private moments that he would spend thinking as if addressing Hisana, that she was the child they had never been able to have. Neglected by himself, but somehow she had preserved the gentleness and strength of her older sister.

 

His attention would turn to Renji. He had spent their time together thinking of him as a snarling beast, set close to his side and fitting enough for a lieutenant. Between the two of them though, who had made the correct choice? Who had been the villain?

 

“You must wish I were dead.”

 

“No. I don’t.”

 

Byakuya would think back on his lieutenant’s face when he had said this. In his mind it had always been the violent face of a demon. When he had finally looked at him in that hospital room, as Renji had turned away to look at the wall and as if to say something more, Byakuya saw a quiet man.

 

He could not understand why he would be forgiven twice.

 

-

 

They had trained twice before in the courtyard of the manor, but after the failed execution, it happened almost daily. Renji would come over to help with paperwork, to deliver something, to see if Rukia was home, and Byakuya would show him a stack of forms, or take the letter in his hand, or tell him Rukia was with her own division or call her over if she was around. Even if there was nothing for Renji to do, Byakuya would ask him to sit down. He would spend a moment writing something down or setting down the meal he was eating, and then he would look out the open doors as if he had only noticed the courtyard by chance.

 

“We should train.”

 

Rukia was rarely around, even less so after becoming lieutenant, but sometimes she would join them or sit by and cheer. They only used wooden swords, for fear of destroying the manor with anything else. She walked Renji back to his barracks at the end of one day, just as it was starting to get dark and the afternoon breezes had disappeared.

 

“Do you think you’ve gotten any better?”

 

“Of course I have, it’s been months.”

 

“Good enough to beat my brother?”

 

“No.”

 

The smile on her face weakened, but when they came to the Sixth Division barracks, she seemed pleased again.

 

“He’s been a lot happier recently. He said you’re a good lieutenant.”

 

“Who? The captain?”

 

“Yes. You mean you haven’t noticed?”

 

“How could I? He doesn’t tell me anything. And he seems just as serious as he’s always been.”

 

“He said all the members in the division look up to you. You haven’t noticed them either?”

 

He had blushed in front of her countless times, ever since they were children, but it still embarrassed him, “I’m too busy to notice stuff like that.”

 

“You really are hopeless.”

 

“Whatever. All I’m hearing is that I’m a more popular lieutenant than you are.”

 

Her face finally cracked into a glare, “I’ve only had this position for a few months, that’s not fair!”

 

He made a face at her, and when she kicked him in the shin he shouted a curse that caught the attention of passerby returning home after work. They bared their teeth at each other, and then she suddenly turned her head away and smirked calmly as if she was too refined to bother fighting with him. It was a tactic that infuriated him. They said goodnight to each other and he watched her walk between the buildings until she disappeared behind a corner.

 

He’d missed her.

 

-

 

Eventually Renji came to the manor without any other reason than to train. The first day he had come with a wooden sword already over his shoulder, not even bothering to sit down, and Byakuya had smiled out of sight and amused himself by delaying and putting on his sandals with obnoxiously measured movements. His pretense of being disinterested in their sparring had begun as some attempt at noble coldness; he was not sure when it had become teasing.

 

Occasionally, Renji’s hair would come loose and he’d ignore it until Byakuya would end the session and insist they eat. Sipping his tea, Byakuya would watch out of the corner of his eye as Renji held a thin black ribbon between his teeth and pulled back his hair. Renji would stare down at the food in front of him, as his hands would pull the ribbon from his mouth and tie it around his hair with quick ease.

 

One day, Byakuya declined to spar. When Renji turned to leave, Byakuya had called after him without looking up or raising his voice.

 

“I only said I’m not interested in sparring today. However, there is still a meal prepared, and paperwork we should do.”

 

Renji had turned back halfway, and stared at him with the wooden sword still hanging over his shoulder. Byakuya ignored whatever question hung between them in the moment. Renji finally shrugged and set the sword down against the wall.

 

“Sounds good.”

 

-

 

While walking to the Kuchiki manor, conscious of the sunlight and sounds of life around him, the smell of dirt and something cooking in a nearby building, Renji realized he was happy. His sleep had been deserted by dreams of weakness or of clawing his way up to captain status; the night before he had dreamed a pleasantly average scene of riding the bike that Hisagi had once brought. He was content in his work. His furious ambition had cooled to dedication. He still enjoyed fighting, but he also found comfort in the daily schedule and peaceful interludes between trouble.

 

He arrived at the manor and the guard barely looked up to wave him in. He walked down the path through the front garden to the main doors, and then walked down the hallway, dim except for the occasional light shed from the open door of a room.

 

It was childish, but he had taken to hiding his reiatsu and silencing his footsteps when he arrived every day, in an attempt to catch the captain by surprise. He approached the open office door and before he could move further, Byakuya spoke from where he was sitting inside.

 

“Renji. You’re here early today.”

 

He sighed, and walked in, “How do you always know I’m here?”

 

“I’m a captain. It’d reflect poorly on the division if I couldn’t sense my own lieutenant.”

 

Byakuya stood up and reached for the wooden sword that was set aside against the courtyard door, only to suddenly pause and and begin adjusting his hair. Renji leaned against the door and watched patiently; it had become a daily tradition for Byakuya to find some way to waste time before they walked outside.

 

“You have a weird sense of humor, Captain, you know that?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

That night, Renji dreamed he was following Byakuya down a long hallway and knew, in the unspoken knowledge of dreams, that they were walking to his room together. The hallway stretched on and on, and they passed rooms that held entire cities, or the woods by the training field, that were completely dark or lit up by parties; in one bright room, Renji recognized Ichigo and Rukia and Ikkaku and others swarming around a table of food, laughing and talking. Byakuya had kept walking, and when Renji tried to speak up to ask him to wait, his voice wouldn’t work. They passed a room that held a graveyard. After that, all the doors that followed were closed to them. It seemed incredibly important that he catch up to Byakuya, but when he stretched out his hand, the shoulder always seemed out of reach. The hallway would not end.

 

It was not like the dreams where he would reach out to strike him and fall short. It was not a dream about power. When he reached for Byakuya’s shoulder in this dream, it was because he needed him to know that he was there with him. He wanted to see him turn around, and for him to follow Renji back to the bright rooms full of loved ones, or to the quiet rooms that led out into trees under starlight.

 

He woke up and could not fall back asleep for the first time in a year.

 

-

 

Byakuya looked at the form in front of him, read it for the third time, and set it aside upon realizing he still didn’t know what it said. It was the time of day when Renji would arrive, and he was focusing on trying to sense the stray footstep or presence of his soul as it would try to walk shrouded towards the room. It had become more and more difficult; Renji was improving at stealth just as he was at sparring.

 

It was the unofficial responsibility of a captain to train their lieutenant. If Byakuya died, Renji would be the expected choice to replace him. Their daily meetings were encouraging; he was comforted in knowing the Sixth Division was in good hands, whether or not they belonged to the captain or the lieutenant.

 

There was another feeling, something more restless than comfort, that would become harder and harder to ignore as the hour of arrival would draw closer. There was a part of him that longed to draw out their meetings until the sun had set, and once even to suggest that Renji live at the manor for convenience’s sake. Instead he would excuse Renji without looking at him, and listen for the sound of the door closing before looking up and finding himself in an empty room.

 

He looked forward to Renji’s unconcerned presence in the manor, for him to work quietly and sit close enough that Byakuya could feel reassured by the constant warmth his spirit gave off like a flame. While he had once felt repulsed by the idea of his lieutenant seeing himself as an equal, he now felt pleased at Renji’s disinterest in being docile and submissive. He looked forward to the peak of their fights where Renji’s desire to knock him down was openly written on his face, and strands of his red hair would fall across a grimacing and panting smile.

 

In the middle of summer, Renji began removing half his clothes before they began fighting, so his chest was bared. Byakuya’s restless feeling was joined by a heat that burned his face.

 

-

 

There had been no sparring for the day, under medical orders that they needed to rest after the last round of attacks. They had finished all the paperwork they could find, and yet Byakuya had not asked him to leave as he usually did. He had poured some tea for him without a word, and then gone back to eating his own meal. Renji had wondered how long he could stay before Byakuya would politely remind him he should go home.

 

He stayed past sunset, and even then Byakuya made no attempt to excuse him. They sat side by side on the courtyard patio. The inches between them had disappeared over the months; they sat so close that the cloth over their knees brushed against each other. Light from the room behind them cast long shadows from their bodies. The cherry tree that always seemed in bloom would shift from time to time in the wind. Renji finally asked; he was surprised to hear his voice disrupt the quiet night around them. He’d expected it to disappear as it did in the dream about the hallway.

 

“Do I have your permission to leave?”

 

Byakuya’s head dipped low for a moment, before his posture returned and he stared out across the garden, “Ah. Yes. Forgive me for forgetting. You are excused.”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

Renji did not get up to move, but stretched his arms and leaned back on his elbows.

 

“Renji?”

 

“I was wondering how long you’d have me on the clock. Now that I’m off work, I can finally relax.”

 

After months of trying to catch him off guard with quiet footsteps, Renji had finally seemed to surprise Byakuya. He looked at him as if to say something and then only shook his head and smiled. They continued sitting in peace.

 

Byakuya still rarely made eye contact with him, but it was different from the cold disdain from before. It felt as if they had both become keenly aware of each other over time. They would risk the occasional glance, but never at the same moment.

 

A chance breeze passed, and the blossoms from the cherry tree fluttered past them. As if it had broken a curse, they turned to look at each other at the same time. Renji noticed one had landed on the captain's head and, without thinking, reached out to remove it.

 

“You’ve got one in your hair, hold on-“ it was only once he held the petal between his fingertips that he realized how close their faces were, “Ah, sorry, I didn’t think-“

 

Byakuya was staring at his mouth. His lips were parted.

 

“Renji.”

 

A hand came up and paused before holding his chin with light fingers.

 

“Captain?”

 

“Is this alright?”

 

“Yeah. Yes.”

 

They kissed as another breeze passed.

 

-

 

Alone in Byakuya’s room, so dark that everything was only a shadow that could be discerned by touch, the second kiss was more heated and led into the third, the fourth, the fifth. Byakuya’s hands were slow as they slid down his hips; Renji touched them gently before they could sink lower. The hands stopped moving. Renji kept his head close when he pulled away from the sixth kiss to murmur in his ear.

 

“You might find something different than you were expecting down there. If there’s a problem with that, say it now and I’ll leave.”

 

He could sense Byakuya still for a moment, could feel him thinking and then understanding what he meant; then his mouth was light over Renji’s cheek, his jawline, his neck and shoulders, “I don’t care, as long as it’s not a tail like that sword of yours.”

 

“What if it was?”

 

Byakuya had already sunk to one knee gracefully in front of him, where his hands were parting Renji’s clothing, “I’d be quite surprised. But it wouldn’t matter.”

 

“And what if someone finds out you’re screwing your lowborn lieutenant?”

 

There was a slight scratch against his thigh, bared now, probably a small annoyed reaction to the crass language, “Then I will remind them I am a noble and a captain, and they should remember their place before bothering me.”

 

Renji ignored the flush in his own face and the hands pacing up the inside of his thighs, “And what’s your place, Captain?”

 

“At the moment? Here, kneeling at your feet, if you’d stop interrupting.”

 

“Sorry. One last question.”

 

He could feel Byakuya sigh against him more than he could hear it, “Yes?”

 

“Can I touch your hair? While you’re, uh, down there?”

 

There was another exhale against his skin, though it might have been a laugh, “Bold as always.”

 

“So the answer’s no?”

 

“I never said that.”

 

-

 

He enjoyed looking at Renji’s body. He liked the way he could feel himself being watched back. Occasionally Renji would say something smug, as if he wasn’t putting effort in being completely still under his gaze.

 

_You like what you see?_

Byakuya always found this display amusing, and would simply agree that yes, he did, before reaching out and tracing the places where his eyes had traveled. 

 

-

 

Renji had no trouble accepting that the man who he had once hated to inspiring levels, more than any enemy, was now the man who shuddered and moaned in his arms and pushed between his legs, and who would whisper pleas into his ears and beg for this and ask for that. In public, he was still the same stern noble, and even to receive a brush of his fingertips against his knuckles as they walked next to each other through the city was a rare gift. In private, he was no stranger. Renji noticed that Byakuya was louder when they would spend the night at his own lieutenant quarters. He mentioned it once.

 

“You get off on sneaking out in the middle of the night to my bed, don’t you?”

 

“You’re imagining things. I’m not some character in a common dirty novel.”

 

Renji had known him long enough that in the dark, he could hear the smile in his voice.

 

-

 

Despite all the violence and strength beneath the skin, and all the healed scars they’d inflicted on each other once, Renji was gentle with him. Years ago he would not have believed someone sent from the Eleventh Division could touch him with such aching and slow tenderness. Renji’s eyes would watch his own hands as they trailed Byakuya’s body, as if he was making sure they behaved, as if Byakuya would break under his touch. Hisana had been the same way; when he had asked her why she was so cautious, she had told him that she would hate to be careless with someone so dear to her.

 

“Renji?”

 

“Hm?” he was busy pressing his mouth idly down Byakuya’s waist, with no direction or hurry. Byakuya reached for his hands and waited until Renji looked up at him.

 

“Are you afraid to look at my face?”

 

Renji’s nose wrinkled, “What? No. I-“ he shadowed with a flush, hardly visible in the dark room but implied when he broke eye contact, “I’m not.”

 

Byakuya tugged slightly at his hands and Renji pulled himself closer, the muscles in his arms shifting for a moment, until they were face to face.

 

“Then please. I won’t break if you look at me.”

 

Renji’s expression softened, and his eyes traveled over Byakuya’s face before settling, “Sorry. It’s not that, I just… I get kind of caught up.”

 

Byakuya smiled, “Caught up in what?”

 

“In-“ Renji spoke in an exhaled breath, “in being with you. In touching you. I forget where I even am sometimes.”

 

Byakuya could not think of anything to say; he lifted his head to kiss him. Renji leaned down to meet him. Byakuya let his head fall back against the mattress and Renji followed him without breaking contact, eyes closed as if simply chasing the sensation on instinct.

 

After months of these quiet glances and soft words, of that unbearably gentle touch, Byakuya recognized the familiar ache in his chest as love.

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> it's cute to think these two jerks are probably huge saps


End file.
